


identify the stars (and watch them twinkle)

by alphamikefoxtrot



Series: we are the stars that died for you [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: All Is As The Force Wills It, Gen, chock full of apostrophes and Strange spelling, the author is very apologetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22421185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphamikefoxtrot/pseuds/alphamikefoxtrot
Summary: In which Ruvert J'ai did not want a Padawan—but a girl and a baby he got anyway.
Series: we are the stars that died for you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638172
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	identify the stars (and watch them twinkle)

Jedi Knight Ruvert J’ai rubbed his eyes for the twelfth time tonight. Jocasta Nu kept count. The revered archivist bookmarked her place and approached the man carefully so as not to startle him. She had caught him unaware once seven years ago, and it was not an experience she would like to repeat. J’ai had a tendency to go overboard with Force-aided push. She had to pick herself up from five meters away to a very _very apologetic_ J’ai. _Poor thing_ , she thought, and promised herself not to repeat the mistake.

Datapads and flimsi were spread in a fan-like shape on the table—and it was a large table that would have fit ten people in deep research had J’ai not commandeered half of it. As she stepped closer, she saw only two familiar titles. Being the Chief Librarian, it was her job to be familiar with all volumes that were archived in the Temple, yet the younger man had always inclined towards the _esoteric_. If she had any authority over him, she would have promoted J’ai as her deputy. Her current deputy, Knight Binta Nin, would have been _delighted_ with the help of an extra set of hands even though she’d already had four from being a Quermian herself.

Jocasta cleared her throat, announcing her presence. “You look like a Padawan cramming for a test, Ruvert, and you haven’t been a Padawan for a long time.”

J'ai's brown hair was wild and his eyes tired as he looked up. “Master Nu,” he replied hoarsely. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since he stepped into the library when the sun was barely a speck on the horizon. There were all sorts of aches making themselves known in his back and joints as he shifted in his seat. He grinned sheepishly. “Old habits, Master.”

“What are you researching, young one?”

J’ai was pushing thirty human Standard years. He was not by any definition _young_ , unless one were to compare him to a species that lived to thousands. Jocasta had simply known him back when he was still a bright-eyed young Initiate, and Madam Jocasta herself was old enough to feel it. Not that she would admit _that_ in public.

From the pile on his table, J’ai unearthed his personal datapad and showed her a rough sketch. It was of a landscape unfamiliar to her, made of tall spires in contoured terrain surrounding what looked to be a circular chasm. She thought of the infamous Sarlacc pit in Tatooine, except this one was obviously missing the creature. What was even more striking about the picture was the colour red in all shades that saturated everything.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” she commented, feeling not a little useless. Binta was better at immediate recollection, but she was still off on an off-world training sanctioned by the Council of First Knowledge. She won’t be back in two weeks.

“I can’t—I asked Livia to draw this for me.” J’ai put the datapad down but left the picture on. The gaping hole looked as though it went straight through the table. “I had a dream—a vision, Master Nu. I need to know where this place is.”

Jocasta gazed at the drawing once more, her eyes inevitably drawn to the darkness in its center. She didn’t feel anything particularly ominous, but she didn’t feel anything good either. The Force was sometimes fickle. “I shall see what I can do to help.”

J’ai regarded her with a thin, though not unkindly smile. “Much appreciated, Master Nu.”

***

J’ai was poking at his lunch when the comm attached to his belt beeped. Livia looked at him with interest shining clearly in her dark eyes.

“Oooh, who’s _that_ from?” She said, in between mouthfuls of Kodari rice and what seemed to be some meat-like substance. "How very unlike you to receive messages. Or _message_?" The Jedi Temple tried very hard to cater to most of its inhabitants’ diet. One only has to know what one was putting onto one’s plate—the problem was Livia would eat anything where J’ai would suffer. He wasn't sure she was one hundred percent human.

“Master Nu. She seems to have made a breakthrough.” He added quickly before his friend could interject with inappropriate comments and demand that he laugh. It seemed to catch her interest, as the spark in her eyes grew brighter.

“She found it? The place from your visions?”

J’ai nodded and mentally decided he would grab lunch at a diner somewhere. This meat-like substance reminded him too much of swamp slugs. “It’s a planet called Daale in the 9th quadrant of the Inner Rim.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Well it isn’t a holiday destination, is it?”

Livia chuckled and wiped her hands with the serviette. Her plate was clean and she was reaching for his. J'ai let her. “Please. You won’t know one if it hit you in the face. You’re going to go to Daale, then.” It wasn’t a question. J’ai felt himself smiling at Livia—she truly was one of his best, oldest friends.

Ever since he could remember, J’ai had been plagued by what he now knew to be Force vision. Livia knew this, had even taken advantage of it in class by trying to make him see the answer to the tests. (They did not succeed but J’ai did learn the limits of his ability.) When he was taken as a Padawan learner, his Master began to teach him how to properly control and nurture his particular connection with the Force. They eventually discover that he also had a talent for touch-sight that was not unlike the Kiffar’s psychometry. Upon touching an object he was able to tell what had occurred and to whom, provided he had some context. Otherwise, he would only perceive sensations or strong emotions. Lately the ability manifested in severe migraines as the visions projected into his dreams were so strong that it bled into his waking hours. To stop from becoming overwhelmed, J’ai had even taken to wear a pair of dark leather gloves.

“I must go,” he said. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet—about my visions. I saw a girl.”

Livia had questions J’ai was ready to answer. The girl he saw was young, barely walking on two legs but with a cry so profound he woke up with his ears ringing for nights in the last month. She had blonde hair and a strange name that he thought he’d misheard, but most importantly she was powerful and she had potential for the Force. It wasn’t rare for Jedi Masters—and indeed, Knights—to receive signs from Force-sensitive children who have yet to learn how to control their abilities. Often that had made it easier for the Jedi scouts to get to the younglings and give them the life they were born for.

“—but I’m not looking for a Padawan. I just need to be certain that she’s safe. She was screaming for help.”

Livia tilted her head in disbelief. “That’s what all the Masters said, Ruvert. Then they come back and—” in an eerily accurate impersonation of Master Yoda, “— _a Padawan, they have_.”

***

The hearing was... uneventful. The Council for all intents and purposes had accepted, sanctioned, and blessed his proposal to visit Daale with what little evidence he was able to provide. J’ai wasn’t particularly surprised for two reasons: first, everyone he knew had been hoping he would start taking missions again and second, the Jedi had flown to even further reaches of the galaxy with as little as a _ping_ from the Force.

The Starfighter soundlessly dropped from hyperspace, just above the single moon of Daale. For a moment J’ai felt the Force flow back into him after the strange hollow of hyperspace. He took a deep breath and along with it came echoes of the girl’s voice. He didn’t like to think she was screaming. He had to find her, and _fast_.

The ship’s R2 unit beeped, bringing the Jedi Knight back to the present. The hyperspace docking ring had been detached. “Thank you, Deeo,” he replied. “I’ll take it from here.”

J’ai tightened his grip on the controls and took the ship into orbit following the chart Deeo had mapped earlier, and landed just south of the planet’s capital where the terrain would hide his ship. From Master Nu’s file he learnt that Daale didn’t have much sentient civilization—most of the inhabitants of the planet were red rocks, wild animals with advanced survival abilities, and more rocks. The strong winds had also terraformed those rocks into steep canyons and trenches, occasionally peppered with a privately owned mining colony. It was the bulk of said sentient civilization. It was barely ten minutes since he had landed and J’ai found himself missing the green of the Temple gardens already.

As he reported his coordinates to the Temple, J’ai let his thoughts drift. Piecing together what he knew yet so many—too many—questions remained unanswered.

His Master would have told him to meditate first--listen to what the planet was telling him. Open himself up to the Living Force. The mere thought of it made his throat close up. He wasn’t sure he would have heard anything new, anyway. The girl’s presence was loud enough, he didn’t have to turn up the volume.

“Keep her safe, Deeo.” He patted the rust-red droid on its dome (Deeo chirped happily, promising she’d keep the ship in one piece) with a gloved hand and slid down the wing of the Starfighter, slinging a backpack full of supplies on his shoulders.

J’ai pulled up the hood of his cloak and started walking north.

***

The goggles J’ai wore protected his eyes from the spiralling dust. The wind rushed past, yet all he could hear was the beating of his own heart. (It was like that time Eitan had slipped something into his third cup of caff. It made him hear colours for the better part of an hour.) The Force thrummed around him, through him. He had found the silhouette of the spires from his dreams almost an hour ago. He must have been near. J’ai drew his electrobinoculars and scanned the expanse of the land.

And just there, by the second spire to his right, he saw a wreckage. The Force spoke its thousand voices that it was what he had been looking for.

A great deal of dust and eleven kliks later, J’ai was close enough to see the make of the wreck. It was an escape pod, likely jettisoned from a high enough altitude and programmed to seek the nearest orbit. It must have stood almost twice his height had it not been half buried in the sand.

J’ai curled his fist around the pod's latch, preparing to pull it open when something big slammed into his back with all the power of a pissed off Phillak’s hind kick, pinning him to the pod and smashing his chin in the process. He lost his grip and his face quickly turned numb.

“Who are you?” The voice that spoke was young—too young to have this kind of strength but he knew that Force signature. Recognizing another’s Force signature was like recognizing voices. One tended to remember it vividly when the voice had been screaming in one’s head for the worse part of the month. J’ai tried to turn around but found himself pinned back.

“Who are _you_?!” The voice— _her_ voice cracked a little. _But where is the baby—?_

“I’m a friend!” J’ai shouted, almost surprised that he didn’t break his jaw. “I came here to help! My name is Ruvert J’ai and I’m looking for Buf-fee—” There was a fresh burst of Force that pushed his breath out of his lungs. J’ai grunted. “I’m a Jedi Knight from Coruscant—I promise I am here to help you—”

Then the power let him go and J’ai fell on his back, sprawled awkwardly with his pack stuck under him. He rolled to his side and looked up—there was the girl, just as blonde as the one in his dreams only much older.  
“I’m Buffee,” she said.

***

The girl radiated power like nothing he’d ever felt before. In the Force it was almost like standing directly behind a ship’s repulsors. She— _Buffee_ —was also very, _very_ hungry. He had offered her four— _make that five_ —ration bars before she spoke again.

“Thank you.” Her voice was small but her eyes were bright, searching. J’ai tried to make himself as non-intimidating as possible. Small children were like small, skittish creatures, right? Right. (He was never particularly good at either but as his old Master had once said, there’s a first time for everything and a chance to get better at it.)

_Let’s meet my sister. She’s hungry too._

This planet was nowhere as dry as Tatooine was rumored to be, but J’ai found himself needing a drink. _That_ , he did not expect. Projecting in the form of visions and dreams were one thing. He had _read_ about it, but surely this wasn't the time to check his notes.

“You’re speaking in my head,” he said, dumbly. He'd also had experience with mind-talkers, but it was always a little more abstract. Full, cogent speech was a little above his pay grade. (J’ai did not check for a Bond. He should have, if only to save himself the surprise.)

 _I can’t speak with my mouth full. My mom—_ There was a pause before she continued, her little fingers wrapped tightly around the ration bar. She couldn’t have been more than six, _dear Gods_.

_My mom says it’s rude._

J’ai released his worries and tension into the Force. It accepted serenely because the Force was never greedy. There was something else he needed to address. “Er—where is your sister?”

Buffee wiped the back of her mouth after she finished half of his water. “In the pod. Come.”

She stood up, water bottle still in her hands and motioned him to do the same. The top of her head barely passed his elbow.

They went around the pod this time, to another latch closer to her reach. Inside (he had to almost fold himself in half to enter—the door was jammed) was the practical design of all escape pods. He took account of everything in one look. No comms. The computer blinked sadly at him, indicating there was just enough power left to maintain an ambient temperature and making data recovery unlikely at this point. Then most important of all was the makeshift crib in the middle of the ruins. Almost nest—like, it was made of the cushions of the torn out seats surrounding a tiny child with a slightly darker shock of blonde hair, sleeping soundly. J’ai closed his eyes, picturing his dreams. It fit.

“My sister.” Buffee spoke quietly as if afraid to wake her up. “Dawnee.”

_Gods, what was he getting himself into?_

Then to the Starfighter J'ai returned, a child of three human Standard (still sleeping and making blurbing noises that could have been a language in some parts of the galaxy) in his arms and Buffee securely strapped in the navigator’s seat looking bug-eyed at everything but keeping herself from touching anything. She was _loud_ in his head, though, asking questions and making comments. _What does_ this _do? Can I have more of the rash bar? Do all Jedi dresses like you?_ Yes. _Ew._

Deeo chirped happily to report that she had just finished plotting the course back to Coruscant. The children, after all, had no parents to return to. J’ai had risked a two days worth of migraine by applying his touch-sight on the computer. Their ship had originally been attacked by pirates and their mother (may she be one with the Force) had only had time to send her kids in the escape pod. He was still shaking off her suffering and pain.

“Let’s go, Deeo. The faster, the better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. Thank you for reading. That was a strange ride, wasn't it?


End file.
